


hold my hand? it’s the only gift i need

by butterflyknifetricks



Series: Ferdiebert Birthday Bash 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 5+1 Things, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Soft Ferdinand von Aegir, Soft Hubert von Vestra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23668399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyknifetricks/pseuds/butterflyknifetricks
Summary: He turned toward Hubert, tan fingers grasping a small segment of raven dark hair and tugging. “Hubert, I will never understand your disdain for tea. The stench of coffee pales in front of a fragrance as pleasurable as this one.”Hubert scoffed. “You call this a fragrance? The smell is of leaves and twigs, hardly something palatable.”Ferdinand frowned, tugging on Hubert’s hair once again. “How rude! You simply lack a refined palate.” He sniffed.Hubert scowled back, reaching up and detaching Ferdinand’s fingers from his hair. He brought both their hands down to his lap and tangled Ferdinand’s fingers with his own. He then turned back to the pot, pouring them both cups and ignoring Ferdinand’s gleeful look.---Or: five gifts Hubert gave Ferdinand, and one gift they gave each other.(For day two of the Ferdiebert Discord Server's Birthday Bash, for the prompts gifts and their ages!)
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Ferdiebert Birthday Bash 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709197
Comments: 7
Kudos: 108





	hold my hand? it’s the only gift i need

****

_I. Enbarr, Adrestian Empire, 30th of the Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1170_

Ferdinand darted through the deserted stone hallway, taking a quick left as he headed toward the courtyard. Seeing a housemaid, he slowed considerably, letting out a bright ‘hello!’ to which the housemaid bowed her head. 

Ferdinand maintained his slower pace, remembering that he was supposed to act like a noble. His father had insisted he be on his best behavior, as, now, he was no longer considered a child. Ferdinand had no idea that being eight years-old meant he was now a paragon of adulthood, but he figured he shouldn’t argue. Besides, he had to find Edelgard and Hubert. 

Stepping into the courtyard, he stopped, taking in big gulps of the fresh air. He had been learning how to use a sword for about a year now, and he was much better now than the last time he’d come to Enbarr. He’d been practicing extra hard ever since then, and he was sure he could beat Edelgard in a duel now. Then Hubert would have to accept defeat and admit that he, Ferdinand von Aegir, was better than Edelgard. And if he was better than Edelgard, then maybe he’d be good enough to always be their friend. 

Ferdinand ran down the stone path, heading for the tea tables past the fountain. He caught a glimpse of long brown hair and sped up. The hedge behind the tables was the best place to hide, and he, Hubert, and Edelgard had spent many evenings spying on foreign dignitaries. Ferdinand thought it was fun to imitate them, with their fancy words and pretentious sayings, and he’d always catch himself mimicking them. Edelgard put up a token resistance, saying that it wasn’t appropriate for her to be doing such things, but she would always join in after he started. And, though Hubert liked to pretend he was better and more _mature_ than Ferdinand, it wasn’t like he could stop himself from laughing along with them.

“Edelgard! Hubert!” Ferdinand doubled over, slowing to a stop. He couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face at the sight of them. “I’m back in Enbarr!” 

“Hello Ferdinand.” Edelgard’s voice was several decibels lower than his own. Still, a small smile spread across her face. “It’s nice to see you back.” Her grin grew a bit mischievous in nature. “Hubert’s missed you.”

Hubert glared at her weakly, then turned his head in mock affront. “I missed peace and quiet, more like.”

Ferdinand pouted and looked at Hubert with his most pleading eyes. “Not even the littlest bit?” 

Hubert resolutely stood his ground for a whole of five seconds. He scowled, turned his head, and promptly capitulated. “Fine. I missed you -- but only the tiniest bit. Less than a speck of dust.” He paired the statement with a glare for good measure.

Ferdinand beamed. “I missed you both too!” 

Edelgard laughed and Hubert’s scowl softened. 

“Edelgard! I’ve practiced my sword skills quite a bit since we last fought -- I want a rematch!” 

Edelgard’s easy smile disappeared. “ _Ferdinand_. Again?” 

“I-it’s been a couple months since the last time! I’m sure I could do better this time, I’ve been practicing, and I’m older n--”

“Ah! It was your birthday last week, wasn’t it? Happy birthday Ferdinand! Well, belated now, but still.” Edelgard took a tentative step closer to him, then impulsively threw her arms around his shoulders. Ferdinand hugged her back. Edelgard gave good hugs. 

She pulled away, a shy but happy smile on her face. “Well, I guess we’re not same age twins anymore.”

“We will be in a couple months -- you turn eight on the 22nd of the Garland Moon, and then we’ll be the same age again. But, until then,” Ferdinand grinned innocently, the way he did when the housekeeper glared at him after he returned from running around the Aegir estate gardens covered in twigs and mud. “I’ll be older!” 

Edelgard pouted, sticking her nose up in the air. 

Hubert chuckled. “Older in age, maybe. Definitely not maturity.” 

At that, it was Ferdinand’s turn to pout again. Edelgard laughed, then patted his arm placatingly. 

“Matthew said that the cooks were cooking up some real treats for the dinner tonight -- you think we can wheedle some sweets out of them?” Edelgard tapped a finger against her chin. “They made some really good sweet buns last time.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Ferdinand grabbed her elbow with one hand and Hubert’s wrist with the other. “Let’s go!”

He yanked them a third of the way to the kitchens before Edelgard managed to situate herself, laughing all the while. She slipped her hand in his and angled a small smile over to Hubert, grumbling-ly extricating his wrist from Ferdinand’s fingers. Hubert set his arm on Ferdinand’s head, using it as an armrest, laughing at Ferdinand’s attempts to swat him off. 

They did manage to convince the cooks that eating sweet buns would absolutely not in any way, shape, or form ruin their appetite for dinner, and Ferdinand and Edelgard munched on their spoils on their way back to the courtyard. 

“Ah, Hubert -- here’s some jerky for you -- Ferdinand and I asked the cooks for some.” She reached over to give him the jerky, only to find him staring at her blankly. “What?” 

Hubert startled, then took the jerky from her, motions stilted. “Jerky?” He looked a bit lost, as if the ground had shifted beneath him. “I thought we went to get sweet buns?” 

“We did.” Edelgard nodded. “But you don’t like sweet buns.”

“It would be super un-noble-like to eat sweet buns without getting you anything! We remembered that you liked the sauteed jerky the last time we had some, so we grabbed it.” Ferdinand faltered slightly, biting his lower lip. “Did I remember wrong? Do you not want it?”

Hubert’s hand tightened around the jerky. “No, I want it.” His voice was strained. “I didn’t think you both would notice is all.” 

Edelgard cocked her head, confused. “How could we not notice?” 

“You’re our friend -- of course we noticed!” Ferdinand added enthusiastically. 

“Ah.” Hubert turned his head, hair covering his eyes. “Well, then. Thank you both.”

Edelgard threw an arm over his shoulder, squeezing him in a side hug. Ferdinand mirrored her on Hubert’s other side. 

Edelgard’s voice was soft. “Of course.” 

Sensing Hubert’s growing discomfort, she pulled away. “Anyway, I heard that a delegation from the Alliance is coming today, so it’s the perfect time to play Ferdinand’s game.”

“Oh?” Ferdinand asked, voice falsely innocent. “I thought you didn’t approve of my game, Edelgard?”

Edelgard glared at him, but there was no heat in it. “Shush, you.” 

Ferdinand laughed. “Alright, alright. Let’s go then!”

Edelgard snagged Hubert’s wrist and dragged him with her and Ferdinand as they headed back to their usual spot. Spending the rest of the afternoon there, they laughed and talked until the setting sun colored the fountain in shades of coral and lilac. 

Ferdinand froze, realizing the time and frowning. “I have to head back. Father will be looking for me.” 

“Oh, I meant to meet up with my sisters half an hour ago!” Edelgard pulled Ferdinand into a quick hug. “It was so good to see you. Happy birthday, again!” She grinned at him, then turned, walking the thin line between speed-walking and sprinting as she beelined for the courtyard exit. 

“Goodbye Edelgard! It was nice to see you as well!” He called after her. 

Hubert chuckled. “I can walk you back.” 

Ferdinand grinned. “Thank you.” 

The walk back to the main hall was short and quiet. Ferdinand heard his footsteps echo off the flagstones, the once benign sound now ominous. He was filled with a sudden desire for the day not to be over, an unfounded feeling of dread that the next time he came, things would not be the same. 

Hubert turned to Ferdinand. “Well, we’re at the audience room. I’ll be leaving now.”

Ferdinand impulsively grabbed Hubert’s hand, then turned red. “Ah! Well then, I’ll see you again next time?”

“You will. “ Hubert squeezed his hand, then let go, leaving an orange tulip in his palm. “It matched your hair.” He started walking away, then turned, a small smile on his face. 

“Happy birthday, Ferdinand.” 

__

_II. Garreg Mach Monastery, Central Fodlan, 20th of the Blue Sea Moon, Imperial Year 1180_

Ferdinand paced in front of the stables. The sun was shining bright, with sweat dripping molasses-thick down his back. He’d been standing there for the better part of the day, not that it mattered. The stables were by far the best place to be in the monastery. As he had told Professor Byleth, the horses were truly magnificent -- so he would stay here to guard them. And stew in his thoughts, he supposed. 

The idea that someone would want to kill Lady Rhea was troubling. Less so because of the threat itself, and more because the discovery of such a motive came so close on the heels of Lord Lonato’s rebellion. He held no sympathy for the man, endangering his own people for the sake of a personal vendetta. Lonato’s actions were unbefitting of a noble and a complete overreach of his power. Ferdinand would know. 

A coordinated attack on the monastery was worrying, for a variety of reasons. Obviously, the first was the rising distrust toward the church, currently one of Fodlan’s foundational structures. The other was the fact that the entirety of Fodlan’s next generation was currently present at the monastery. Claude was the future leader of the Leicester Alliance, Dimitri the future king of Faerghus, and, of course, Edelgard the future Emperor of Adrestia -- and all of them were present and graduating Garreg Mach this year. 

Ferdinand shook his head. There was also the idea that the villains were attacking the monastery for gold, or weapons, or treasure of an invaluable sort. The monastery was so old that it had to be hiding at least a few secrets. Edelgard and the professor had both deemed the target to most likely be the Holy Mausoleum. It was only open on the one day, prompting Ferdinand to wonder what the would-be-infiltrators could possibly want from it. It _was_ said to house the tomb of Saint Serios herself, and several other saints besides, but there couldn’t possibly be any real value in a dead body, no matter the importance of said person in life. 

He was wasting his time thinking about this. The church was taking every precaution to protect Lady Rhea, the professor and their class were to guard the mausoleum, and until then, he was keeping a watch on the stables -- nothing was going to happen. 

Ferdinand scuffed his boot against the sandy rock, clouds of dust flying up in its wake. He felt gritty, hot, and sweaty. He flexed his wrist, clenching and unclenching his fingers. The urge to go to the training grounds and work off his aggression was indelible, but he could not bring himself to leave the horses quite yet.

As Ferdinand was waffling over which decision to make, he heard the crunch of a twig behind him. He spun around in mild terror, heartbeat in his throat. Hubert was standing not five feet behind him, a smirk playing across his lips. He had most definitely startled Ferdinand on purpose.

“You may go back to twiddling your thumbs, Ferdinand. I have no desire to engage in an utterly banal conversation.” Hubert let out a cruel chuckle. “I must admit, if there was anything you surpassed Lady Edelgard at, it would be wasting your time.” 

Ferdinand bristled. “And you would know all about that, yes, considering that all your time is spent chasing after Edelgard.” He scowled. “I’m surprised you even know the names of the students in our house.” 

“There is no need to remember people of no importance. Besides, you should worry about yourself. After all, out of our house, it is _your_ name that I am surprised I remember.”

Ferdinand bit his cheek hard enough to draw blood. “You -- ”

“I must be on my way. Not all of us have time to be mooning over horses. Good day, Ferdinand.” 

Ferdinand let out a noise that was most unbefitting of a noble. 

Hubert looked as if he was going to laugh. Ferdinand stifled the urge to punch his smarmy grin off his stupid face.

Ferdinand spun around and took several deep breaths. He pinched himself in the thigh hard, then turned back to Hubert. He pasted a cheery grin on his face. 

“Since I am very clearly the better person of the two of us, I will be ignoring that. After all, you are so _terribly_ important in comparison to everyone else, omitting your precious Lady Edelgard, and must be in a terrible hurry, rushing off to _somewhere_ of importance.” Ferdinand sneered. 

“If you are so positively offended by my accusations of indolence, you might explain why you are currently lounging around the stables and generally being useless.” 

“Excuse you!” Ferdinand crossed his arms in front of his chest. “As we have deduced that the goal of the would-be-assassins is no longer assasination and rather theft of the mausoleum, I am standing guard over the stables.” 

Hubert raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning into a confused scowl. “I make no illusion of understanding how your brain works. Please enlighten me as to how those two things have anything to do with each other.”

“I was getting to that! If you let me actually speak, you wouldn’t have to ‘understand’ how my brain works — unlike you, I don’t speak in _circles_!” Ferdinand huffed. 

He continued. “If they desired to enter the mausoleum, they would most likely use a distraction of some sort. I am _well_ aware that there are plenty of ways to do so —but I would rather be safe than sorry! If they set the stables on fire, these wonderful horses would be harmed. The darlings don’t deserve to be caught up in messes of human making any more than they have to. So, I’m standing watch. Now, does that satisfy you?” He finished, glaring at Hubert.

Hubert remained blank-faced for a moment before crumpling forward in uproarious laughter. Sinister-sounding uproarious laughter. Ferdinand shifted, uncomfortable, and felt his ears begin to burn. 

“W-what’s so funny?” 

Hubert straightened up, and Ferdinand’s breath caught. The noonday sun was tangled in Hubert’s raven hair, glancing off the edges and making them look almost brown in the light. His eyes shone like colored glass, citrine bright. He was smiling and Ferdinand froze in confusion. 

Hubert was smiling at him. And it wasn’t one of his vaguely threatening smiles, cruel grins, or smirks at Ferdinand’s expense. It was a genuine smile. More genuine than Hubert ever gave _him_. He could not remember the last time Hubert had looked at him without malice. Until now, he had not even realized it was something he wanted. 

“Only you would think something like that, Ferdinand. Your mind amazes me.” Hubert’s normal wry tone was back, but an edge of humor remained. 

Ferdinand faltered. It almost sounded like Hubert was teasing him? “I-it’s important! Our house will be stopping them from entering the mausoleum on the day of— but I wouldn’t want anything to happen to the horses before then!”

Hubert let out a short laugh, the ends of his mouth twitching upward. “The horses will be _fine_ , Ferdinand. I give you my word.” 

****

_III. Garreg Mach Monastery, Central Fodlan, 12th of the Wyvern Moon, Imperial Year 1185_

Hubert stalked down the corridor, exhaustion pressing into him like a second skin. Being in and out of war briefings and strategy meetings all day, he hadn’t yet had time to read through the stack of intelligence reports that had arrived that morning. He could not say he was looking forward to the late night. Allying with the snakes was a necessity to rid Fódlan of the scourge that was the Church of Serios, but it was most definitely not a decision that allowed one to rest easily. 

He turned right, the doorway of the monastery library coming into focus. A shock of bright orange hair was visible toward the back of the dimly lit room. 

Hubert paused, not expecting anyone to be awake at such a late hour. He slowly continued walking, footsteps deliberately louder than before. 

Ferdinand did not react. Instead of sitting up with an inordinately cheerful smile for the hour and an excessively loud greeting, he continued scribbling madly into a worn notebook clearly on its last legs. Hubert’s curiosity was piqued. 

He walked quietly to the back of the room and set his papers at the end of Ferdinand’s table. He glanced up at Ferdinand, who was still engrossed in his work, then pulled out a chair. Ferdinand’s eyes flicked upward, then returned to his paper. He wrote another couple words, then visibly startled. He looked up, the confusion in his eyes melting into surprise. 

“Hubert-- hello!” Ferdinand grimaced. "My apologies, I must have been so distracted that I missed you coming in.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Ah, well. You do not mind if I?” Hubert gestured at the chair. 

“No, no, go ahead.” Ferdinand flapped his hand, gesturing for Hubert to sit down. Hubert sat.  
“Though, as a warning, I most definitely won’t be a good conversationalist at the moment.” 

Hubert sneered. “Ah, a moment of silence with Ferdinand von Aegir? It must be a miracle.”

Ferdinand scowled, expression perilously close to a pout, then returned to staring daggers at his notebook. He curled around it, back nearly parallel to the table, left arm propping up his head as his right tapped his pen against his cheek. Biting his lip, he proceeded to haphazardly scrawl three lines of text in the margins of the page, the majority of it already taken up by equally, and surprisingly, illegible writing. 

Hubert frowned, perplexed. Ferdinand's handwriting was normally impeccable. Hubert remembered it vividly as yet another thing Ferdinand sought to ‘beat’ Edelgard at in their youth.

Hubert shuffled his papers, getting up and cross-referencing a few books in the monastery library as he did so. As he picked up _Fodlan’s Geography: A Complete Analysis of Faerghan Terrain_ , he redirected his attention to the table, considering the amount of space available to spread his maps. 

Ferdinand let out a deep sigh, kneading the bridge of his nose, blue ink smudging tan skin as he crossed out his previous three lines, effectively removing all clear space available on the page. As he flipped to the next page, Hubert was unsurprised to see that it was just as full as the last. On second glance, the notebook looked even worse off than he had first assumed. More than half the pages were falling out, binding coming apart at the seams, and even more pages had been shoved inside to make up for a lack of space. Multiple pages were dog-eared, wrinkled, or torn -- some a mix of all three -- and an old, ratty ribbon was hanging off the edge, ostensibly to bookmark pages, but more likely used to hold the notebook shut. 

Spreading out a sufficiently sized map, Hubert picked up his first report and set out a blank piece of paper to unscramble the cipher. He and Ferdinand worked together in silence until Hubert was about three-fourths done with his stack of papers. 

“Hubert? I am dreadfully sorry to be an inconvenience, but could I possibly borrow some paper? As you can see, well…” Ferdinand gestured feebly at his deceased notebook. “I am quite out of space.”

Hubert gave him a brief nod, handing over a sheet of paper. “Ferdinand, what in Fodlan’s name are you scribbling in that notebook? It’s downright illegible.”

Ferdinand laughed, red creeping up on his cheeks. “Ah, these are just my personal notes. I am simply consolidating my observations regarding army morale and current equipment need to help decide what tasks should be undertaken by which battalions. When I am finished, I will write it all up in a formal report for the war council -- but currently it is only my speculation.”

Hubert raised an eyebrow. “And the notebook?”

Ferdinand turned even redder. “I keep forgetting to replace it.”

Hubert stifled a chuckle. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Ah, yes. You too.” Ferdinand jerked his head in a rough nod, and the two of them lapsed into silence. 

By the time Hubert finished his last report, the sky was beginning to color in pale blues and oranges. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting in an effort to stave off his fatigue. Pushing his chair out, he stood up and stretched, muscles protesting their previous cramped position. 

Hubert glanced at the other side of the table. Ferdinand was fast asleep, head pillowed on his left arm. He appeared to have finished his work -- as his notebook was closed and the sheet Hubert had given him filled with his fancy handwriting -- and decided that falling asleep in the library itself was preferable to the walk back to the dorms.

Hubert was taken aback by how young Ferdinand looked as he slept. The crease between his eyebrows had smoothened out and the downward turn to his usually smiling mouth had all but disappeared. His messy, bright orange hair framed his face sweetly, and Hubert considered waking Ferdinand up just to force his own brain back into normalcy. 

Three years ago, Hubert wouldn’t have even imagined that the rest of the Black Eagles would join Lady Edelgard’s cause, let alone Ferdinand. Hubert was certainly wary at first, but, as Ferdinand was wont to do, he quickly made himself invaluable. Ferdinand had a certain way with people that neither Hubert nor Edelgard could emulate, and his knack for looking at issues on both a global and individual scale was desperately needed. 

More than that, Hubert never expected to consider Ferdinand a friend. Yet, that was undoubtedly what he was. They were kind to each other in a way Hubert had never anticipated. That was not to say that they didn’t argue, because Abyss knew that they did, but it was kinder. Insults aimed less to hurt and more in jest. Mutual respect and even tentative trust where there used to only be anger and irritation. 

Hubert pushed his chair back in, picking up his sheaf of papers. He looked at Ferdinand once again, watching the rise and fall of his even breathing, the curl of his hair as it sat upon his shoulders, the little blotted smudge on the second knuckle of his pinky finger. 

Hubert walked around the table, removing his cape in one smooth movement and seamlessly draping it across Ferdinand’s sleeping body. He scrutinized the notebook lying on the table, then turned to the nook in the back of the library. 

He reached underneath the table, grabbing an empty folder as well as a notebook. With both items in hand, he returned to the table and placed them squarely on top of Ferdinand’s notebook. Taking out a half-sheet of paper, Hubert scratched down a couple sentences, then placed it on top of the pile of items. 

> _Ferdinand,_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _This is for you, you irresponsible fool. If your thoughts are important enough to be read aloud in war council meetings, then they certainly are important enough to be properly taken care of.  
>    
>  Please sleep in an actual bed next time,  
>  Hubert_

Hubert turned and left the library. The pink light of the early dawn began to prick through the monastery windows. The weather seemed to be pleasantly warm, the spring chill ebbing as the sun rose. A glance at the clock told him that the day would soon be well and truly starting. 

He hoped he could get at least an hour or two of sleep before his next meeting. 

****

_IV. Garreg Mach Monastery, Central Fodlan, 1st of the Lone Moon, Imperial Year 1186_

The infirmary lights were off when Hubert walked in. He supposed that was what happened when one stopped by at the crack of dawn. Linhardt’s eyes glinted overly bright in the darkness of the room. 

“Here for Ferdinand?” He asked, hand gesturing toward the left corner. The scant light from the window illuminated the bruise-like smudges underneath his eyes. “If you’re here, I’m going to take a nap. Manuela should be coming in for a shift right about now, so if you could -- ” He yawned. 

“I can. Get some sleep.” Hubert waved him off. 

A head of bright blue hair popped in the doorway. “Linhardt -- come get breakfast with me!” Hubert winced. Even when using what could tentatively be called an ‘inside voice,’ Caspar’s voice carried. 

Linhardt sighed. “I want a nap.” 

“You can have one -- after breakfast! You haven’t eaten in a whole day.” Caspar’s smile scrunched into a frown, and he looked at Linhardt mock disapprovingly. 

“Alright, alright. It’s less work to just listen to you.” Linhardt walked over to Caspar, immediately slumping over upon reaching him. Caspar simply chuckled and adjusted Linhardt to a more comfortable position with the ease of a man with years of experience.

“Bye, Hubert!” Grimacing at Caspar’s volume, Hubert raised a hand in reply. 

Letting out a tired sigh, Hubert walked over the bed in the left corner. He sat down in the open chair, placing the two mugs and water on the table beside him. 

“H-hubert?” Bleary orange eyes blinked up at him. 

“You’re awake.” Hubert squinted at the window. “It’s only just been dawn. You should sleep for a few more hours yet.” 

Ferdinand let out a hoarse chuckle. “Despite his efforts, no one has ever accused Caspar of being quiet.” 

Hubert sighed again, lips twitching upward. “That, they have not.” He reached out, brushing aside the tangled fringe of orange hair obscuring Ferdinand’s face. His palm moved to cup Ferdinand’s cheek, and he stroked a thumb across Ferdinand’s clammy forehead.

“How are you feeling?” Hubert’s voice was low. 

Ferdinand gave him an exhausted, but sincere smile. “Perfectly alright. The poison from the arrow wound should be out of my system within the next few days, and the wound itself will heal nicely. I will be healed and ready in time to attack Arianrhod, do not worry.” The quirk of his lips turned mischievous. “I could hardly leave you and Edelgard to fight this battle on your own.” 

Hubert felt the vice around his chest loosen. “Of course. We could expect no less from you.” 

He ran his fingers through Ferdinand’s hair, the pleased smile on Ferdinand’s face prompting him to do it again. 

“Well, if you are truly awake, we might as well share the tea I brought now, rather than later.”

Ferdinand’s smile brightened, excitement making his eyes glitter. “Oh? Now, what kind of tea would that be?” 

“Whatever I found in the dining hall.” Hubert said sharply, firmly avoiding eye contact. 

Ferdinand pushed himself upright, wincing as it pulled at his wounded shoulder, Hubert grabbing the elbow of his uninjured arm to stabilize him. 

Ferdinand glanced at the tea Hubert had brought and let out an exclamation. “Hubert von Vestra, you most definitely did not get Almyran Pine Needle from the _dining hall_.”

Hubert huffed in annoyance. “Yes, yes. I got it specifically for you, you insufferable man.” Ferdinand’s ears pinked at the blunt admission. “Now, do you want to drink it or not?” 

Despite his embarrassment, Ferdinand nodded vigorously, a short laugh stumbling out of his lips. 

Hubert lit a small Fire in his palm, pressing it to the pot of hot water. Once it was boiling, he added the tea and let it steep. The steam from the pot seemed to wake Ferdinand up further, as he scooted to the edge of his cot, legs dangling, uninjured shoulder pressed against Hubert’s. He leaned forward, wafting the now-fragrant steam over toward his face. 

He turned toward Hubert, tan fingers grasping a small segment of raven dark hair and tugging. “Hubert, I will never understand your disdain for tea. The stench of coffee pales in front of a fragrance as pleasurable as this one.” 

Hubert scoffed. “You call this a fragrance? The smell is of leaves and twigs, hardly something palatable.” 

Ferdinand frowned, tugging on Hubert’s hair once again. “How rude! You simply lack a refined palate.” He sniffed. 

Hubert scowled back, reaching up and detaching Ferdinand’s fingers from his hair. He brought both their hands down to his lap and tangled Ferdinand’s fingers with his own. He then turned back to the pot, pouring them both cups and ignoring Ferdinand’s gleeful look. 

“Here.” He handed Ferdinand a cup of tea, gently curling the fingers of Ferdinand’s injured arm around the handle. Ferdinand gave him a sweet smile and immediately wrapped both his hands around the cup and inhaled deeply. 

Stifling an exasperated yet fond sigh, Hubert blew on his tea and took a sip. Though he did like to tease Ferdinand, Almyran Pine Needle was a passable tea. It didn’t hold a candle to coffee, of course, but he could see the appeal. 

They sat and sipped together in silence as the sun rose higher in the sky, blue painting over the bright oranges and pinks of the early morning. The slight chill of the early spring had Ferdinand pressing harder against Hubert, his socked toes tapping against the infirmary floors. He looked to be drifting off once again, head dipping and jerking upright. 

Hubert turned Ferdinand, slipping his legs back onto the bed and drawing the covers over them. He carefully slid his arm behind Ferdinand’s shoulders, lowering him back down. 

Ferdinand stirred, right arm grasping his wrist feebly. “Hubert?”

He slipped out of Ferdinand’s grasp, gently placing Ferdinand’s arm back on the bed. “I must be going, and you must get some more rest.” 

Ferdinand nodded in sleepy agreement, then grabbed Hubert’s cuff. “You’ll be back?” 

“Of course.” 

Ferdinand let go, face smoothing out as he appeared to promptly fall asleep. 

Hubert leaned down and gently kissed his forehead. “Sleep well, Ferdie.” 

****

_V. Enbarr, Adrestian Empire, 28th of the Ethereal Moon, Imperial Year 1188_

Hubert leaned against the wall across from the Prime Minister’s Office, arms folded, foot tapping against stone restlessly. 

“Ferdinand, we’re going to be late.”  
“I apologize, I apologize -- I had a last minute meeting and was organizing my notes!” Ferdinand stumbled out of his office, hair tie between his teeth, hands pulling his hair up into a high ponytail. Noticing Ferdiand struggling to pull his hair into one hand, Hubert walked up to him and pulled his office door shut. Ferdinand beamed at him.

“Thank you, dearest.” He said, tipping forward to kiss Hubert’s cheek. Hubert acquiesced, a small smile on his lips. 

“Now,” Ferdinand slid his hand into Hubert’s. “I am always happy to spend time with you darling, but I must admit to being a bit curious -- ” He stopped, turning to Hubert with a look of horror. “I haven’t forgotten an anniversary or engagement, have I? Oh, I’m-- ”

Hubert stared at him blankly. “Ferdie. It’s your birthday.” 

Ferdiand blinked in confusion. “No, I could have sworn it was tomorrow…” A look of slow realization passed over his face. “Ah, today’s the 30th!” 

Hubert looked at him worriedly. “Sweetheart, I know this morning was a bit hectic, but Edelgard and I both did wish you.”

Ferdinand waved him off, mouth scrunched with humor and slight embarrassment. “Yes, yes, I remember; I think it just slipped my mind temporarily.” He gave a sheepish laugh. 

Hubert shook his head in fond exasperation. “Well, in case you need a reminder, we’re going to out dinner _because_ it’s your birthday-- ” 

Ferdinand smacked him on the shoulder, scowling. “I remember _now_!”

Hubert laughed, making Ferdinand scowl harder. He pressed a kiss to the side of Ferdinand’s head to pacify him. Ferdinand _hmph_ -ed, attempting to hide a smile.

They exited the Imperial Palace, turning into one of Enbarr’s many bustling side streets.

“Ah, I forgot to ask -- where are we going?” Ferdinand asked, curiosity in his gaze. 

“There’s a new Albinean seafood restaurant in the city center. I’ve heard their food is delicious -- especially their grilled herring.” Hubert gave him a knowing look. 

Ferdinand grinned at him. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

The setting sun splashed golds and pinks across Ferdinand’s face, his hair a glowing halo. His bright eyes shone with delight, filled with a boyish enthusiasm dimmed by years of war but no less beautiful for it. He had a singular dimple in his left cheek and Hubert wanted to kiss it. Freckles dotted his face, sun-browned and numerous, forming constellations on his skin. His hand was rough in Hubert’s, scarred and calloused. At certain angles, the scar tissue chafed against his blacked fingers. There was no one else’s hand Hubert would rather hold. 

The thought came unbidden, quick as lightning -- _I want to marry him_. 

“Hubert? Are you alright?” Ferdinand’s brow furrowed. “You stopped walking.” 

Hubert’s chest felt tight, overfull with a warmth he’d thought he’d never feel. “I love you.” 

Ferdinand’s cheeks reddened, blush climbing to his ears. Casting a quick glance about, he threw his arms around Hubert and gave him a quick squeeze, then tugged his bangs for good measure. 

“I love you too, you silly man. What was that for?”

Hubert shrugged, the action feeling like an out of body experience. “No reason. I just felt like it. I love you.” 

Ferdinand groaned, then aggressively squished Hubert’s cheeks. “What am I going to do with you, you adorable man --”

Hubert felt positively offended. That was most definitely his line. 

“Now, the restaurant! Before you make me pass out from all this sweetness overload!” Ferdinand yanked on his hand, laughing. 

They made it to the restaurant, Hubert extremely relieved to find that they were not, as he had previously worried, horrifyingly late. It was bad form to keep a foreign princess waiting, after all. 

“I have a reservation under the name Vestra, a table for four?”

Ferdinand turned, head tilted in confusion. “Four?”

“Ah, yes, Mr. von Vestra, sir. Let me walk you to your table.” The waiter started walking to the back of the restaurant. 

Ferdinand nudged Hubert, “Four?” he repeated.

“Four.” Hubert echoed, a wicked smirk curving across his face at Ferdinand’s ensuing scowl. 

“Ferdie! Hubie!” Hubert took a step back, watching Ferdinand look around in confusion.

Dorothea stepped out of the booth in the far corner as the waiter approached, spreading her arms wide for a hug. “It’s been ages!”

Ferdinand gawked, frozen. “Thea?!”

“The one and only.” She grinned mischievously. 

He melted in one fell swoop, throwing his arms around her and squeezing her tight. “I thought you were in Brigid! With Petra?”

Petra stood up from behind the booth. “It is good to be seeing you, Ferdinand, Hubert.” Turning to Ferdinand, she smiled. “We were wanting to be surprising you!” 

Ferdinand let Dorothea go, grabbing Hubert’s hand and looking slightly overwhelmed. “How are you both here?”

She shrugged. “We were coming anyway for the trading agreement. Hubie was just a darling and mentioned that it’d mean a lot to you if we came early for your birthday, and helped arrange for us to come early and be all secret.” She laughed lightly, the sound melancholy. “Besides, it marks about two years since the war -- and it’d be the first year in a while you’d have to celebrate without all of us.” She grimaced. “Not that last year was much of a celebration.”

Petra smiled warmly, a hand squeezing Dorothea’s. “But we building our new world now. I am proud of us.” 

Ferdinand’s smile is tired and genuine. “We are.” 

Petra let go of Dorothea’s hand, stepping forward to give Ferdinand a quick hug and a hard squeeze, both of them beaming as she let go. 

“Oh! Hubie, don’t think we’ve forgotten about you!” Dorothea wrapped Hubert up in a crushing hug. “You look well!” 

Petra stepped forward next, giving him a nice but mildly terrifying hug that lifted him a solid foot off the ground. She let go, grinning at him cheekily. 

Greetings exchanged, she pulled Dorothea down into the booth, both of them taking a seat with Hubert and Ferdinand following suit. 

Hubert watched Ferdinand and Dorothea chat animatedly, exchanging expressions of fondness and exasperation with Petra. The food was just as delicious as described, with both Ferdinand and Petra trying the famous grilled herring. Sufficiently full and satisfied, they bid each other cheerful goodbyes, promising to bring Edelgard and to call Bernie next time because _it would almost be like a reunion, Hubie! Minus Linhardt and Caspar_ , (who were currently in Dagda if his spy intel was correct). 

They left the restaurant, Ferdinand burrowed into his side, warm and smelling faintly of fermented fruit. Ferdinand’s cheeks were pink in the cold night air, fingers curled tightly into Hubert’s jacket, and the stars twinkled in the sky, the lantern fire around them warm and comforting. 

“Thank you.” Ferdinand’s voice was soft and muffled, the majority of his face turned into Hubert’s collar. “I don’t know what to say. I’m really happy.” His fingers tightened in Hubert’s coat. “I love you.”

Hubert curled a hand around his waist, holding him close and dropping a kiss on the top of his head. “That’s all I wanted. Happy birthday, sweetheart.” 

****

_\+ I. Enbarr, Adrestian Empire, 2nd of the Garland Moon, Imperial Year 1189_

Ferdinand and Hubert walked together in silence, elbows linked and shoulders touching. The sky was dark, stars beginning to peek out from behind the lace clouds. The flowers of the Imperial Gardens looked delicate and ethereal in the moonlight, the gardenias like balls of flashing light, the red roses, blood-red shadows. Ferdinand could see his breath coming out in little white puffs in front of him, his cheeks flushed as a result of the biting wind. 

There was a warmth that settled firmly in his chest, both a result of his proximity to Hubert and a general feeling of contentment. He would have called it a perfect night if there wasn't a small box, ring-sized, one could say, burning a hole in his back pocket. The same box that had been burning a hole in his sock drawer, his office desk, his nightstand, his wine closet, and his shampoo bottle ( _boy_ , was that a story). The same box that had been taunting him from the moment he had gotten it, impulsive and afraid after one of Hubert’s longer spy missions, wishing that even if he ended up with nothing at all _(Hubert dead, bloody, broken -- gone)_ , he would at least have had this. Those moments never lasted long. Life would resume as normal, and Ferdinand would resume being afraid. 

Afterall, it was already late, and he had already faltered away from making several proposals over the course of the night. He knew that if he didn’t manage to do it tonight, he would never manage to propose at all. 

Hubert and he had planned this day down to the tiniest detail. They had both managed to sync up their rare day off, and Ferdinand had done his best to make sure it would be perfect. They’d had a lazy morning, or what counted as lazy for them anyway, then visited the new bookstore. They'd spent a couple quiet and peaceful hours there, then stopped at the nearby cafe for tea and coffee. While the tea was nowhere near as good as how Hubert managed to brew it _(that man had magic in his fingers, both literally and figuratively)_ , it was pleasant nonetheless. They had then gone and seen the Mittelfrank Opera Company’s new opera, which Hubert pointedly insisted that he didn’t like _(meaning he had liked it)_ , and grabbed dinner at their favorite restaurant. And then they were here, in the gardens, aka Ferdinand’s last chance to propose before he died of embarrassment. 

And if he didn’t die of embarrassment, Dorothea would definitely kill him. Her letters had become more and more threatening as of late. He had to make a move now before he gave up out of stress and let her. He supposed that he had dragged his feet long enough to make her want to tear her hair out in frustration. In their last correspondence she had declared that if he didn’t propose to Hubert by her next visit, she was going to propose to Hubert for him. And, well, Hubert definitely deserved better than that. 

Hubert deserved the world. Ferdinand had known that he wanted to marry Hubert for what felt like an age _(more like a year)_ , but he supposed he was afraid. He and Hubert _had_ spoken of marriage before, in the theoretical, and their desires had lined up at the time. But the thought of Hubert changing his mind, of him not wanting to be with Ferdinand, of him realizing because of the proposal that he didn’t want to do this any longer -- it was too much to bear. 

Still, Ferdinand was known best for his optimism and his courage. It was time he took both in hand and used them to their fullest. He’d fought a bloody war against people he had once considered friends, then watched as one of his closest friends and the love of his life continued suffering as they fought a war that they wouldn’t speak to him about _(until they finally did, but that was a story for another time)_. This couldn’t possibly be any harder than those things, could it?

Oh, who was he kidding. Right now? In the moment? This was definitely harder. 

“Ferdinand, darling, are you alright?” Hubert’s voice broke through his thoughts, soft and careful. 

“Ah, yes, sorry.” Ferdinand waved his hand and gave Hubert a weak smile. “Just thinking.” 

Hubert kissed his cheek, smirking, eyes still pinched with concern. “Don’t hurt yourself.” 

He pouted, pushing away from Hubert in mock affront, turning his head and pointing his nose in the air.

Hubert kissed him placatingly, once on the nose, once on the mouth, and then again on the mouth when he pouted harder. Satisfied, he grabbed Hubert’s hand once again, pulling him toward the fountain in the middle of the garden. 

“Quick, first memory that pops into mind about the fountain!” Ferdinand gestured toward it, the water clear and calm, presenting a mirror image of the moon surrounded by glimmering stars and little sprigs of wisteria. 

Hubert pulled no punches. “That time you pushed the son of a dignitary from Dagda into the fountain and pretended it was an accident.” Mirth glittered in his eyes. 

“Are you serious?!” Ferdinand sputtered. “That was almost twenty years ago!” 

Hubert nodded in mock seriousness. “It was very memorable.” A smirk began to grow on his face. “One could even say it showcased what someone might have once called a _noble_ spirit.” 

Ferdinand smacked Hubert’s shoulder. “I hate you.” 

Hubert wrapped his arm around Ferdinand’s waist, waiting until Ferdinand relaxed against him. “You?” He prompted, voice soft. 

“Oh!” Ferdinand smiled roguishly.”Definitely that time when we were little and I was feeding my growing inferiority complex and crying about it by the fountain, and you gave me this sweet pep talk and made me feel better. You were all like -- _be yourself Ferdinand!_ and _you’re perfect just as you are Ferdinand!_ \-- it was cute.”

Hubert stared at him in disbelief. “That never happened.” 

Ferdinand laughed brightly. “I mean, I am paraphrasing. It was a bit more emotionally constipated than that.” He kissed Hubert on the cheek. “But it was sweet, and meant a lot to me at the time. So, definitely most memorable.” 

Hubert gave him a small smile. “I love you.” 

Ferdinand threw his arms around Hubert’s neck and kissed him. “And I, you.” He pulled away, cheeks red, eyes bright, a bright smile spreading across his face.

Ferdinand knew it was time. Looking away from Hubert, reaching into his back pocket and grabbing the box. He held the box in front of him and flicked it open, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. 

“Hubert-- ”

“Ferdinand-- “

He froze, Hubert freezing in tandem, a stunned look on his face. Ferdinand couldn’t focus on Hubert’s face however, as his attention was arrested by the box in Hubert’s hands. It was a small box, the size and width less than a finger. It looked like a jewelry box. In fact, it looked almost identical to the box in his own hand. 

He realized that both he and Hubert had slowly sank toward the ground, what might have initially been intended to be a kneel becoming more of a sprawl on the garden’s dirt path. 

Movements stiff and robotic, Hubert opened his own box, and Ferdinand couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped his throat once he saw what was inside. It was a ring. A beautiful ring. Gold inlaid with a deep orange stone, semi-translucent and bright. His own ring was silver, the stone a black onyx. 

Ferdinand was suddenly hit with the inexplicable urge to laugh. He started laughing, voice high and slightly hysterical. He brought a hand up to cover his face, and the crazed laughter gave way to heaving sobs, shoulders shaking. 

“Ferdinand.” Hubert’s voice was quiet. Ferdinand looked up and saw Hubert’s ring box on the ground beside him, his arms open wide. 

Snapping his own ring box shut and all but throwing it aside, Ferdinand launched himself at Hubert. He wrapped his arms around Hubert’s broad shoulders and shoved his face into Hubert’s neck. Hubert wrapped an arm around the small of Ferdinand’s back, the other slowly carding through Ferdinand’s hair. 

He sobbed into Hubert’s neck, taking hiccuping breaths and clenching his fingers in the back of Hubert’s coat. A small part of him _(the insecure, inferiority complex growing part)_ , was mad that he didn’t manage to say a single word of his speech and broke down like a baby. Another much larger, less toxic part of him was unbelievably happy. 

For all he had hoped and dreamed and cried and wished, he had never believed this was something he would get to have. Sometimes, the idea that Hubert loved him, that _anyone_ loved him, that the war was over — floored him. That he’d get to call Hubert his husband was beyond his wildest dreams.

Ferdinand felt Hubert’s face tucked into his hair, cold droplets landing on his head, and laughed, the sound watery and thick. He scrambled backward and grabbed his ring box, furiously rubbing his eyes to stem his tears. He tipped forward to reach Hubert once again, kissing wherever he could reach, Hubert’s wet cheeks, forehead, nose. 

Ferdinand took a deep breath, hiccuping slightly, one hand still smearing tears on the side of his nose. “Hubert von Vestra, I love you to pieces.” He pressed his lips together to stifle a sob. “Would you do me the honor of marrying me?” 

Hubert’s eyes widened, a cracked laugh torn from his throat. His hand came up and wrapped around the nape of Ferdinand’s neck, pulling himself down and resting his forehead on Ferdinand’s collar bone. Ferdinand felt him try to steady his breathing, lips silently counting _one two three breathe_. 

He lifted his head, piercing green eyes focused on Ferdinand’s face. “Yes.” He took an audible breath, letting it _whoosh_ out. “Ferdinand von Aegir, beautiful love of my life, would you marry me?” 

Ferdinand laughed. Or sobbed, he couldn’t tell which. “Yes, yes, _yes_ , please yes.” 

Hubert grasped Ferdinand’s left hand weakly, hand shaking as he slid his ring onto Ferdinand’s finger. Ferdinand raised it up in the moonlight and it glittered, fitting snugly on his finger. He felt the sudden urge to resume crying in earnest and immediately grabbed his own ring to stave off the feeling. He held his breath as he slid the ring onto Hubert’s finger, then clasped their hands, rings sliding against one another.

Hubert let out an aborted half laugh, blinking hard, and stood, pulling Ferdinand up with him. “Well, that’s enough rolling around in the dirt for me.” He gave Ferdinand a smile that made him want to burst, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Shall we go home, sweetheart?” 

Ferdinand gave him a radiant smile, small and bright, and curved into his embrace. “Yes. Let’s go home.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> I love all the beagles to pieces, so writing this fic was super fun!
> 
> I would like to say as a disclaimer that I was super sad when I realized that I managed to include them all except Bernadetta -- I apologize from the bottom of my heart for her absence but could not find a place to stick her in without rewriting something major :(((
> 
> however, i will do my best to show her some love in another fic this week, so no worries!
> 
> other than that, thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked it!


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